Monday Muse – When Muses Rebel
Dearest Bridget and I are having a bit of a tiff this week. My darling Muse has been very sweet and cooperative over the past few months, probably as a result of the MUSE THERAPY class I took online from the rabbity-fabulous D.D. Scott. We’ve been working like two — well, I was going to say “like two mules in harness,” an image very dear to my Southern brain, but Bridget informed me that she shall not be likened to a mule. So there.
She’s done that a few times over this past weekend – just planted her little size six Jimmy Choos (Bridget is quite the fashionista) and told me she’s not working on the project I suggest. Our biggest argument right now is about a book trailer. Several of my friends have done them — Jillian Chantal has made some gorgeous ones — and I wanna jump on the bandwagon. With PROOF OF LOVE coming out from Champagne Books this fall, a trailer is a good promo, and I need to put one together.
Nope. Bridgie has dug in her delicate little stiletto heels and refused. Every place I have looked for affordable pictures online has been so disappointing that Bridget says she just can’t do it. I’ve snooper around Dreamstime, Getty Images, Shutterstock, and elsewhere, til poor Bridget just got depressed. And a depressed Muse is not a productive Muse.
For one thing, the photos of people in historic dress tend heavily toward the paranormal look. Lots of ver skinny, very young men with pale skin in cravats – I swear they must glitter if the sun hits them! Not exactly right for my 30-something brilliant scholar-Duke. And the girls, if not wan and anemic from all the vampire kisses, look more like someone’s mom wearing her outfit for the RWA Beau Monde costume ball. A bit longer in the tooth than my heroine. After all, even though poor Susan was firmly on the shelf, in her day spinsterhood meant mid-twenties.
So after several hours of looking, Bridget has rebelled. “Look, chica,” she said to me as we drove to the day job yesterday, “I’m trying really hard here with the writing, you know? No little hissy fits, no drama except on the page. I don’t expect a thank you note for it. It’s my job. But movie making R not us. Not gonna do it. You’re on your own.”. Then she got a wee bit snarky and added, “I’d sure hate to see you get writer’s block when the new WIP is going so smoothly.”
Well, I can recognize a veiled threat when my subconscious mind makes one. Looks like persisting with the trailer will cost me valuable time on the WIP. So I have reluctantly agreed w Bridgie and abandoned the trailer for right now.
What do you think? Can I market my book without one? Is there anyway to pique Bridgie’s interest in a new kind of creativity? Or should I (Bridget is nodding happily here) just stick to writing?
Arabella Stokes 